


Rewind (Wednesday, again)

by CMi (CmiMiu)



Series: DaeJae [3]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternative Perspective, Angst and Tragedy, BangJae brothers, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Panic Attacks, Plot Twists, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad, Sad Ending, Tissue Warning, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Triggers, Why Did I Write This?, all the sadness in the world and then some more, daehyun centric, daejae - Freeform, so fucking messed up, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-05 19:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CmiMiu/pseuds/CMi
Summary: His choice can change everything.Or, where Daehyun is forced to live the same day over and over again.(Again, as you would expect if you've read my other stories, there's a Twist to this cliche plot.)





	Rewind (Wednesday, again)

**Author's Note:**

> My first B.A.P angst~  
> As everyone knows, I'm actually Angst Queen. And usually my stories are very creative (even if I do say so myself) and this one shouldn't be any different.
> 
> This is NOT a straight-up rape recovery fic.

**i**

 

Daehyun spares a glance to his wrist watch as he’s stepping out of the theater doors. It’s 1am in the morning but he’s used to that. He’s a musical actor so rehearsals usually last until early morning and as opposed to what he displays, Daehyun is a night owl. He waves off the last of his colleagues goodnight and turns the corner to start his trek to his apartment complex.

 

A cab stops as he's reaches the street but he waves it off without a second glance. Usually he would call a cab, but tonight Daehyun feels melancholic, so he decides to walk back home.

 

He’s had a bad day today.

 

The boy had come an hour late for the practice and had earned a good thrashing from his director. In his defense, though, it wasn’t his fault. A frantic college student stole the cab he had waved over and seeing the panic-stricken boy give out instructions to the driver, Daehyun had held himself back. _He must be in a hurry,_ he had told himself and had watched the vehicle had speed off.

 

Of course, his cry for justice was royally ignored by his acting director.  

 

It’s an easy forty five minutes walk to his apartment complex, so he juts his hands inside his jeans pocket. He’s almost reached his home’s street by the time the night  quietens to a whisper. Ducking his head further into his hoodie, Daehyun tries to ignore the cold breeze and waits for the signal light to turn red as he waits for a few cars to pass.

 

That’s when he sees it.

 

Not too far from the crossroad he is standing at, is an alley. Dimly lit and looking all sorts of creepy. And normally, Daehyun would just turn away, but something makes him move.

 

It might’ve been the whimpers he can hear echoing down the empty road. Maybe it’s all the trash that is spilled out on the streets; the garbage box, lying on it’s side in an obscure manner. Eerily blocking away the alley from sight. Maybe it is the scuffling noises he can hear.

 

He stops at a distance, still unable to look into the alleyway. Trepidation roots him to the spot as he eyes a man, buff and heaving, stepping out from behind the green city garbage box. Something in the way he is holding himself tells Daehyun that the man is either high or severely inebriated. He gulps, watching the man turn to something behind the trash can and sneer at the ground before turning back and walking away.

 

Daehyun watches the man walk up to a yellow cab parked beside a nearby tree. He stands stock still as the man drives by beside him. He doesn’t know why, but he peeps in through the man’s window as he passes him by, engraving the face to memory.

 

Lost in thought, Daehyun is just about to walk away when another round of pitiful whimpers makes him stop. Raising his eyes, Daehyun waits for the sound to echo again. A few cats jump out from behind the trash can and he rolls his eyes turning around. _It’s just a few cats, Daehyun!_ He scolds himself. _Relax, will you?_ The boy starts walking back to the curb.

 

He’s a few steps away when he hears it. Like a ghost calling out for help. Like an injured animal, wailing.

 

Like a kid, crying.

 

“H- help me.”

 

He freezes in spot. Daehyun’s eyes shiver in their sockets and he waits for the voice to call out again. And sure enough, like an ominous howling, a broken whisper reaches his ears.

 

“So- so- someone… He- Help…”

 

Daehyun, rooted where he stands continues staring at the traffic, his back facing the pathway that is blocked by the dumpster. Perspiration beads onto his forehead but he can’t make himself move. It’s like all of the world’s weight is settled onto his shoulders and he’s anchored to the entrance of this cursed pathway.

 

He’s scared. He’s terrified. In his defense, Daehyun has never been the most courageous person between his groups of friends. So, with regret stinging in every nerve of his body, Daehyun walks away without seeing the boy. The cats and a lone fluttering butterfly are the only ones privy to his cowardice.

 

He doesn’t look back.

 

**ii**

 

Daehyun wakes up with his breath choked in his throat and his heart burning with the remnants of last nights happenings replaying in front of his eyes. The dark haired boy lets out a groan and pulls at his hair remembering how he’d ran away from the crime scene. The whimpers and groans. The cries for help ring in his in his mind and he tries to block them out, slamming his hands over his ears but nothing seems to work.

 

A lone tear slides down his cheeks as he curses himself for being the coward he is. He stays like that for a while. Not moving. Trying to not breath. Soon, however, he’s up and getting ready for the day again. Oddly enough, he’s not in the mood to change his clothes.

 

*

 

Something is off, Daehyun can feel it in his bones. The day has been oddly… familiar. It feels like he’s seen the flowers of his neighbor’s flower pot wilting already. The strange familiarity he feels when the sun beats down on his back. The cat that cross his path is also strangely seen. Everything around him, carries a sense of hallucination.

 

And when he loses his cab to a certain college student, a haunting feeling of Deja vu settles into his gut. And when his acting director is yelling at him, Daehyun is sure he’s lived through this all.

 

Nothing makes sense to him. He wants to believe that all this is just a coincidence. Maybe it was all a bad dream. He’s never been precognitive but maybe it’s all just that, an ominous feeling. Maybe yesterday never happened.

 

Daehyun eyes his wrist watch with unbridled nervousness. He’s distracted. His feet tapping at the ground relentlessly. As soon as their director gives the okay, without sparing his colleagues a glance, he races out the theater doors.

 

Ignoring the cab that stops for him, Daehyun instead runs to the very crossroad from his dream. At least, he wishes it were a dream. He has no idea what he’s expecting. Maybe he’s expecting to get there and find out that all of it really was just a dream. Maybe that’s why he runs.

 

Because he wants to confirm that it’s just a bad dream.

 

*

 

He doesn’t even know how he managed to get there. The world is a blur around him as he runs for his life. For another life.

 

All Daehyun knows is that he’s late again.

 

Stopping short of the turning, he can see the man’s head from where he stands. He can also make out the desperate struggle of feet pressed underneath the man’s knees. Strangled voices echo off the alley walls that he’s just outside.

 

But he doesn’t move. He’s frozen. The boy, he can make out it’s a boy from his pleading voice, is grappling around the man’s body. Daehyun can’t make out his face in the dark, but he winces every time the man thrusts into him. As if he can feel the pain the boy is going through.

 

He watches, horrified, how the act continues for the next fifteen minutes. During which, Daehyun can’t keep himself from crying. When the man is done, Daehyun watches him get to his feet and pull his pants up. He watches the man then wash his hands in the drain that’s flowing by the corner. It’s red by the time the water reaches Daehyun’s feet.

 

The black haired boy, taking cover of the night and the banyan tree he’s pressed against, watches the man drive away. Just like the last time he had. And he realizes, he’s at the same turning point he was at yesterday.

 

Trembling, Daehyun turns to the boy lying in the dirty sewage water. He still can’t place a face to the body, but he can make out the boy’s mangled limbs and bloodied lips calling for help.

 

It’s like he’s been paralyzed. Daehyun finds himself incapable of moving. He stands there watching the boy try his hardest to turn. To get up. To yell for help. But Daehyun doesn’t move.

 

He has no bearings of how much time has passed when he sees the boy’s chest stop heaving. A few flies, a pink butterfly, landing on his chest as it slows it’s beating.

 

Daehyun turns away when the boy stops breathing.

 

**iii**

 

_Knives. Demons. Kids with clown masks. Bloodied skulls. Tombstones. A dark alleyway._

 

Daehyun heaves as he wakes up with a start. His entire body drenched in sweat. A nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The boy groans, crying this time, as he lands his head on the pillow with a thud. He doesn’t feel like working today.

 

*

 

It’s unsettling. Deja vu hits him like a train again when the same flower pot greets him in the morning and the same cat crosses his path. He prays to the God he doesn’t believe in for this to be a dream. Shuts his eyes forcefully when he’s at the street ready to hail a cab.

 

The same college student, whose face he misses yet again, jumps into the cab that stops for him, and Daehyun knows.

 

The day is repeating itself.

 

*

 

He once again races past the cab that is sitting outside the theater and rushes towards his home. This time, Daehyun runs with a purpose. He’s going to help the boy this time.

 

Yet again, he’s late and he watches the man drive away but doesn’t make to chase him. Daehyun, instead, races into the alleyway. He stops dead in his tracks when he actually sees the victim.

 

The boy looks barely eighteen.

 

The white dress shirt he is wearing has faded into a deadly red. His dress black jeans are torn in the most non-fashionable, brutal manner. His school bag, bright blue and neon green, lies crumpled in the drain, just near his head. He’s wearing black shoes. The boy is wearing a silver chain, that glistens with the words YYJ.

 

Daehyun slowly approaches the whimpering figure, letting the boy’s outstretched hands grab his own. They’re bloodied and shaking. He thinks he sees the boy’s bones piercing the skin from some. His lips tremble with the effort to speak but Daehyun doesn’t let him.

 

“It’s okay” he whispers to the boy, gingerly running his fingers across the boy’s chubby cheeks. Rubbing away tears and blood that cling to the skin. “I’ve got you, you’re fine.”

 

*

 

“Where did you find him, Mr. Jung?” The doctor asks him as Daehyun watches him exit the ICU. The boy is lying inside on the pristine white bed. His wounds, physical wounds, have all been cleaned off.

 

Daehyun turns his attention back to man in front of him and gulps. “I- in an alley at th- the turning of Kyungsan and Myungdong street.”

 

The doctor hums and wipes his brow tiredly. He had rushed the boy like a madman onto the gurney when Daehyun had arrived with him on his back. They had operated on him for almost two hours before the man took a break.

 

The dark haired boy watches the man look into the information pad in his hand, reviewing the injured boy’s vitals, before he looks back at him. “Look,” the doctor begins and Daehyun can sense the denial in his voice. “He’s in a bad state. Very bad. I could detail his injuries to you, but I’m not sure if I should.” He sighs and shakes his head, explaining, “you’re not exactly his guardian.”

 

“N- No, I… I understand.”

 

The doctor, Dr. Geum, nods his head in agreement and tucks away the notepad under his arm. “You will need to give a statement to the police. I hope you know that.”

 

Daehyun gulps and nods his head, whispering, “i know.”

 

“Good.” He continues looking at Daehyun then. Suddenly the man’s eyes soften. He pats his shoulders and Daehyun feels guilt bubbling inside of him. “He might not survive the night, Mr. Jung.” He gravely informs the boy, who can't help but look away. “Would you like us to… inform you-”

 

“No.” Daehyun whispers without even a second of thought.

 

*

 

By the time Daehyun stumbles into the apartment the sun is already rising in the horizon. He eyes the alarm clock near his bed and groans when the time shows 6am. With a thud, the boy slumps down into the covers.

 

His green grey hoodie is painted red but Daehyun doesn’t have the strength to pull it off. His body smells like the residuals of last nights deeds. There’s an awfully sinful scent of sex wafting from his body, coupled with the hints of mandarin. His entire body is shaking with cold sweat, dripping down his back.

 

 _3 hours._ He tells himself. _Let me sleep. Forget everything for 3 hours, please._ Daehyun pleads to his heart.

 

Sleep, of course evades him.

 

 _I tried. I saved him. I took him to the hospital and that’s where my duty ends._ His mind is splattered with thoughts about the boy. The injured boy he’d left back at the hospital.

 

Yoo Youngjae. That’s the name the police officer had told him. An eighteen year old freshman in KST. Acting major.

 

“He’s fine.” Daehyun whispers to himself. His eyes finally drooping as the time ticks to seven, an orange butterfly sitting on the alarm clock. “He’ll be fine.”

 

**iv**

 

The first thing Daehyun realizes when he wakes up to the screeching his alarm clock is that he smells like himself. The toxic smell of sex and citrus is nowhere to be found. The next thing he looks for is his cellphone.

 

The date is the same as it was yesterday.

 

*

 

This time, Daehyun decides to stay in.

 

He locks his apartment and pulls the curtains up. Surrounded by pillows and blankets, Daehyun watches the sun rise up and bloom to it’s fullest before it extinguishes into a soft glow.

 

He never moves away from the bed. Staring soullessly into the night sky. Eyes the garish sun give way to the cool moon. The owl hoots just outside his window and Daehyun squeezes his eyes shut when the clock strikes 1am.

 

He’s aware. Painfully aware.

 

Daehyun knows that right at this moment, when he’s hiding locked up in his bedroom, a boy, Youngjae, is being pulled behind the dumpster in a dark alleyway. He knows that the boy’s cries are being ignored by the quiet city, his words are being blocked away with calloused hands. Daehyun is fully conscious of the fact that Youngjae, eighteen year old and beaming with life, is being ruthlessly raped by a man three times his age.

 

But, Daehyun doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to move. As pitiful as it might make him seem, Daehyun just wants to forget this is happening. He wants eradicate the memory from his mind.

 

 _Who is he?_ He scolds himself as he watches the street light cast shadows on his apartment floor. _He’s just some boy, Jung Daehyun! He’s a stranger! It’s not your duty to help him out!_

 

The moon soon gives way to the sun again and Daehyun finds himself grappling onto his sleep strings. He blows away a tiny pink butterfly from his face and closes his eyes.

 

He thinks he’s solved the day.

 

**v**

 

The same day greets him when he wakes up and Daehyun can’t say he didn’t expect this. He thinks he’s figured out what makes him relive the day over and over.

 

Youngjae has to live for him to continue living.

 

_*_

 

He's late again. Once again he lets the man race away, instead choosing to run to Youngjae's side. Again he carries the boy to the nearest hospital.

 

Everything is the same as it had been that day. The doctor rushes Youngjae to the OT then the ICU. Just as he'd done before, Dr. Geum tells him that Youngjae might not make it. Everything is exactly the same.

 

Except this time, instead of heading back home after giving his statement to the police, Daehyun opts to stay.

 

Instead of introducing himself as a stranger, he introduces himself as “Youngjae's friend. I'm his college senior.”

 

*

 

 _It is all fate_ , Daehyun tells himself when Youngjae goes into a cardiac arrest. He watches the doctors and nurses hovering over the boy, trying to save him and it’s all a blurry to him. He stands in the corner of the ICU, watching the nurse break open a vial of epinephrine and fill the injection with it. He’s in a daze as Dr. Geum rams the needle in the middle of the boy’s chest.

 

It takes merely five minutes for the heart monitor to come back to life again but Daehyun’s life flashes in front of his eyes in that moment of time.

 

He can’t let Youngjae die. Even if it is for his own sanity.

 

That night, as Dr. Geum is going back to his office in the emergency room, he proudly pats Daehyun’s shoulders. “You saved him. He would’ve died if you hadn’t been there beside him, son.”

 

*

 

Daehyun watches morning break through the blinds in the ICU but nothing is the same anymore. He has changed into a clean shirt and gotten rid of the bloodied grey hoodie he’d been wearing for the past 3 days. His body doesn’t smell of sex and he has slept well.

 

And Youngjae is alive. Barely, but alive nonetheless.

 

The boy is in his first year, Daehyun knows this after talking to the police last night. But, he also knows that Youngjae is doing a minor in music; that he’s the youngest son of his family; that he has an elder brother; that his parents are dead; that he like the color yellow; that he had an interview yesterday; and many more tidbits about the boy he was able to search up online on his SNS accounts.

 

Daehyun has no idea what he’s going to do with this information. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the boy again. Neither is the boy going to come seek him out. But he’d felt obliged to know.

 

Presently, he’s waiting for Yongguk, Youngjae’s brother, to come. He can’t wait to leave the antiseptic smell of the room. When the police officer had mentioned to him that Youngjae’s brother would be coming, Daehyun had been terrified. He didn’t know of what; just terrified in general.

 

 _I saved his brother,_ Daehyun mutters to himself to keep himself from hyperventilating. _He’s alive. I saved him twice already. Why am I scared. What is wrong with me._

 

The dark haired boy shakes his head and stares at Youngjae. At the multitude of pipes and tubes attached to the broken body. At the oxygen mask placed on his face. At the amputated fingers.

 

He bites his lips as the whole scene replays itself in his mind.

 

“Looks like he’s not the only one who won’t forget.”

 

*

 

No amount of prep talk could’ve prepared him for Yongguk. The dark, brooding man looks nothing like Youngjae and Daehyun, for a moment, feels scared of him. That fear soon gives way to pity, though, when the elder rushes to his brother’s side.

 

The sight in front of him breaks him more than he would like to admit. Yongguk falls to his knees the moment he reaches Youngjae. He keeps staring at the boy, pupils shaking in their sockets. As if touching a newborn bird, Yongguk’s fingers tremble horribly, as he tries to hold onto Youngjae’s fingers. Weeping when he sees two of his fingers missing.

 

It’s a horrible sight. He’s never seen someone cry the way Yongguk is. He’s sobbing, choking. His breathing comes out erratic and he looks close to passing out. Daehyun can’t do anything but watch the man breakdown from a distance.

 

He wants to go over to the man. Wants to pat his back, say words of comfort. Anything to ease his mind. Anything to ease his own. But he stays where he’s at. What could he possibly say, do, to fix this?

 

*

 

“Thankyou,” Yongguk whispers to him over a coffee. Daehyun doesn’t know what to say to that so he simply nods his head. He turns to stares at the streams of people racing about just outside the coffee shop they are in. It’s like they’re being mocked. With happy faces that look back at them with obvious delight.

 

Something compels him to speak then. Daehyun bites his lips and looks down at his hands with guilt leaking in his words. “I let him get away.” His lips tremble with the effort to speak. Eyes already wet with tears as he watches Yongguk’s grip on his cup loosen. “I- I was scared. I cou- should have stopped him. I could’ve prevented all of this, b- but…”

 

He lets his fade away as the gravity of what he’s said gripples him.

 

Yongguk doesn’t say anything as he gets up and leaves.

 

Daehyun is sure that the drops of water on the table near Yongguk’s coffee mug are tears.

 

*

 

It’s been almost a week. More than seven days, actually.

 

It’s been more than a week since the incident but the nightmares don't let Daehyun sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s scared he’ll wake up on the Wednesday morning of that day. He can’t even begin to imagine the nightmares Youngjae has lived through. Is living through.

That’s probably why he’s made it a routine. It’s probably the guilt.

 

Daehyun makes sure to visit Youngjae everyday. He sits beside the boy for an hour daily. They don’t talk. Youngjae had come back to consciousness four days ago, but he doesn’t speak. He never even looks Daehyun in the eye. All he ever does, whenever Daehyun is there at least, is stare at his hand in his lap. Cradling his broken fingers.

 

He doesn’t even cry.

 

Daehyun tries to find the boy he’s seen on all those instagram videos and twitter updates in him. The boy who laughed without care and whose voice never strayed lower than a scream. The boy whose smile reached his eyes. The boy who had cried after winning a soccer match.

 

It’s obvious he’s lost though. Replaced instead by a hollow shell of someone else. It’s not even him in body. The Youngjae he had found out about does not carry a persistent frown on his lips. Isn’t skin and bones. Isn’t scarred, bruised purple and black. The Youngjae he’d looked up about, smiles.

 

The one sitting in front of him, is nothing but a shadow.

 

Still, Daehyun comes. Everyday. Even though they never speak. He watches over Youngjae until it’s time for him to leave again.

 

And he always brings a smoothie, because Youngjae can’t eat solids for a while.

 

*

 

He’s in his apartment, eating dinner when he gets the text. It’s from Yongguk - the elder had asked for his number incase Youngjae wanted to talk to him, Daehyun didn’t think a day like that would ever come but he didn’t refuse.

 

**B.Yongguk**

**_Did Youngjae say something today?_ ** **_  
_****_What did you two talk about?_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_Was he acting strange?_

 

He doesn’t have to be a genius to make out the desperation in the messages. Daehyun frowns at the hint of urgency in the man’s tone. Something ugly and heavy settles into his gut and usually he would’ve ignored but he can’t now. Not after what he’s seen and been through.

 

**J.Daehyun**

**_I couldn’t visit him today._ ** **_  
_****_I had my show tonight so I had to leave home early for dress rehearsals._ ** **_  
_****_Actually, I just got home._ ** **_  
_ ** ****_Is everything alright?_

 

He leaves the phone on the couch and walks into his kitchen. After boiling some water for ramyun, he’s heading back to his bedroom when a purple butterfly flitters away in front of him. A cold feeling settles into his bones and races to the couch.

 

**B.Yongguk**

**_He… tried to commit suicide._ ** **_  
_ ** **_They’re trying to sabrn. Hixkl._ **

**_*save him_ **

 

He drops the cell phone with a thud and cries.

 

Youngjae dies again. And Daehyun’s back to Wednesday.

 

**vi**

 

Daehyun gets there late once again. He saves Youngjae once more. And then again in the hospital. And he makes sure to remember the day Youngjae had last died.

 

Now, Daehyun doesn’t just sit beside the boy and wait for an hour to get over. The day he’d brought Youngjae to the hospital once again, Daehyun had decided that he’d be there for the boy. He’d befriend him.

 

Ever since Youngjae has come to, Daehyun has been talking to him. Youngjae never replies, but Daehyun doesn’t let that deter him.

 

*

 

“I am Jung Daehyun. A senior at your University, but you can call me Daehyun if you like.” Youngjae keeps staring at his fingers.

 

*

 

“I heard you’re an acting major. I’m a theatrical actor. You know I graduated from KST as well. Mr. Kim was my practicum Professor. I heard he’s still taking classes. He’s probably still are stern as he used to be.”

 

Daehyun keeps talking for hours. He doesn’t go away until the visiting hours are over. Yongguk thanks him for it, but Youngjae still doesn’t speak.

 

*

 

“I met Yongguk on the way up here.” Youngjae is now looking at the window to his left. Completely ignoring, or oblivious to, Daehyun’s presence. Daehyun doesn’t take it to heart though. He continues talking. “He said he’ll be late so I’m gonna stay here until he gets back.”

 

The elder boy waves the hard candy in the air before placing it on the bed next to Youngjae’s legs. He never touches Youngjae. He’s just scared of hurting the boy more than he’s already been. “I got you peach flavor this time. It’s really hard to find, so you better not let it go to waste.”

 

Once again silence engulfs them but Daehyun doesn’t let it rein. Reaching into his duffle bag, he pulls out a book. Clearing his throat dramatically, he snickers at the boy. “I’m going to practice my script until I’m here. Mind you, I’m a disaster. So don’t laugh at me even if I seem like a noob. This is a huge deal for me.”

 

Youngjae doesn’t speak, but he does watch Daehyun. He turns his head to the boy and watches him act out his scenes in front of him for more than four hours.

 

For the first time since the incident - no, since he’s known Youngjae for all those forgotten days, Daehyun sees his eyes. His eyes, innocently brown with flecks of hazel, look into his. And Daehyun feels something stir. He doesn’t know what but he feels it in his heart like electricity.

 

And when Daehyun is leaving, he watches Youngjae reach out for the candy he’d left from the corner of his eyes.

 

For the first time in weeks, he sleeps well.

 

*

 

It’s been a month and Youngjae is allowed to get a discharge. Daehyun is there, beside Yongguk, waiting for the boy to leave the nasty white room he’d been holed in. Daehyun ignores Yongguk’s conversation with Youngjae’s doctor about further tests and blood samples, to watch the boy gradually get up from his wheelchair.

 

He wants to help. Wants to reach out and help Youngjae stand on his feet, but he’s terrified.

 

Youngjae looks too fragile in his yellow hoodie and black sweatpants. His hair, the lightest of brown, ruffle around his eyes. The bruises that had once lined his neck in awful tones of blue, have now faded enough to not be recognisable. His lips are not burst open anymore; they are a flushed pink now. He is still not smiling, his eyes are still dead, but Youngjae looks more alive than he had been a month ago.

 

And Daehyun can again feel something flutter inside of him.

 

*

 

They are eating dinner in Yongguk's apartment. The eldest of them has just excused himself for a phone call when it happens.

 

“Are you the protagonist in this time’s play?”

 

His voice is smooth like a slice of butter kept out for too long. Velvety and twinkling. Youngjae doesn’t whisper his query as Daehyun had imagined he would. He asks out loud, boldly. He doesn’t smile at Daehyun but his eyes look more alive than they had before.

 

The shock makes him speechless. Daehyun has heard Youngjae’s voice before, it’s not that he hasn’t. He’s browsed through the boy’s instagram feeds and twitter videos more times he can count in order to find a clue that links him to the boy. But, something about listening to him really speak - live and real time -  gives Daehyun a backlash.

 

The baritone that carries his words with confidence makes Daehyun smile and he nods his head proud. And he’s not proud about himself. He’s proud of Youngjae. And maybe a little bit of himself too.

 

Because Youngjae did pay attention to his rambling all this while.

 

“It’s my first time as a main lead, yeah.” He ducks his head and ruffles his hair embarrassed. “I’m really nervous, actually.”

 

And then, Daehyun feels it again. That same fluttering in his gut that he can’t seem to place. Except, it’s intensified. So much, that he’s scared Youngjae might hear.

 

It’s because Youngjae shakes his head and tells him, “you’ll do good.”

 

It’s because Youngjae smiles. And Daehyun hasn’t seen anything more pure in his twenty five years of life.

 

*

 

When he steps on stage, the crowd is silent and watching. Judging him. Daehyun bites back a whimper of despair at the cold eyes that stare at him, waiting for him to mess up. He almost backs out. Almost runs away.

 

Almost.

 

But, a pair of innocently gentle eyes, encourage him. Sinfully brown with flecks of hazel. In the far end, hidden from all. Eyes that are so full of life because he’s smiling as he shyly waves at Daehyun.

 

The fluttering has now becomes a permanent occurrence in Youngjae’s presence.

 

*

 

“I’m gonna to start going to the university starting tomorrow,” Youngjae tells him as they board the bus to the younger boy’s apartment.

 

Daehyun look at him then. There’s fear brimming under the lids. It’s been two months but the fear remains. Hidden behind sunshine smiles and violent laughs. But Daehyun sees it. He always can.

 

He takes Youngjae’s hand in his own. He’s not scared touching him anymore. Of breaking him. “I’m proud of you” he tells the boy, smiling encouragingly.

 

A tear slips past Youngjae’s eyes and he smiles back bitterly. The moonlight glistens at the tear trails created on Youngjae’s cheeks and Daehyun’s heart, that has been fluttering constantly, beats a little faster.

 

The younger rests his head on Daehyun’s shoulder and falls asleep, almost instantly. As if Daehyun’s words of encouragement was he needed.

 

*

 

Once again Daehyun’s heart stutters a beat. And this time, he thinks he knows what it is.

 

They are at a karaoke bar and Youngjae is singing.

 

He’s singing and crying at the same time but Daehyun swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful. Youngjae closes his eyes as he sings. Clutches the mic close to his lips. Wrinkles his nose and winces as if it takes too much effort. He feels the song as he sings to his heart.

 

And Daehyun falls irrevocably in love.

 

*

 

Their first kiss leads to a panic attack.

 

When Daehyun leans down to capture Youngjae’s lips, everything comes back to the boy.

 

He pushes the elder away and Daehyun can feel Youngjae being torn apart by the memories. He watches the boy yell as he crumbles down in the corner of Daehyun’s living room. Crouching into a fetal position. Knees pressed into his chest. Hands on his ears trying to block out lustful grunts. Eyes tight shut to burn away the image of the rape from his memory.

 

Youngjae screams into his chest. Head bowed and his entire body shivering. A cold sweat breaks out on his neck but he doesn’t move.

 

Daehyun watches the boy writhe in pain from the flashback. And when he makes to hold the boy, Youngjae jerks away from the touch. Like an injured animal. Staring at Daehyun in caution.

 

A crack in the rims of his heart makes Daehyun move away; he can’t help Youngjae. Can’t erase the memories no matter how much he wants to. Tries to.

 

That night, Daehyun sits beside Youngjae. On the cold, tiled floor of his apartment. Never touching boy. Simply crying as he watched Youngjae scream and yell at no one to “Stop. Please. No more. I’m sorry…”

 

*

 

As morning breaks through his window blinds, Daehyun edges closer to the boy.

 

The nasty tear tracks mar his lover’s visage. There’s nail scratches all over his arms, that Youngjae had etched into his skin last night. His hair is a mess and the younger boy is finally asleep.

 

Daehyun moves stealthily. Not wanting to wake the boy from his short coma. He cradles the boy in his arms. And suddenly he realizes that nothing has changed. Because Youngjae is still hurting just as much as he was that Wednesday night. The pain is still there, though it’s invisible now.

 

As if carrying a porcelain doll, Daehyun holds Youngjae close as he takes him to his bedroom. He lays the boy in his bed and kneels down beside his sleeping face. Carressing his cheeks as tears slip past his tear ducts.

 

“I- I’m sorry,” is all he manages. “I should’ve stopped him. I should h- have run faster.” The words choke him but he spills them out nonetheless.

 

Because Youngjae is sleeping and he knows he’s have a nightmare even as Daehyun watches over him.

 

“If I could change time again,” He thumbs away a tear that runs down the boy’s cheeks and chuckles dryly. “I promise, if I could change time again…” He sighs before getting up. “I promise I’d give everything up to save you.”

 

*

 

A blue and green polka dotted butterfly makes him look at his cellphone. It’s on silent but Daehyun can see he’s receiving a call. It’s from Youngjae. Daehyun smiles as he answers it.

 

“What’s up, Jae?” It’s been two weeks since their first kiss and Youngjae fine.

 

 _“Just wanted to talk to you, Dae”_ comes the boy’s voice. Awfully static and accompanied with the sound of traffic. _“What are you doing?”_

 

Daehyun chuckles. Because Youngjae has made it his habit to call him everyday just to ask him what he’s doing. “I’m missing you.” He cheekily responds, knowing well that Youngjae hates such cheesy replies.

 

He practically hear Youngjae rolls his eyes through the phone call. _“Stop being an asshole.”_ His voice carries the hints of a pout and something much more. Youngjae sighs, deep and slow, and Daehyun can sense something heavy settle between them.

 

“Hang on a second, Jae,” he tells the boy, before turning to this voice director and holding up a finger, asking him for a break. He then speed-walks to his green room and locks the door before speaking again, “what is it, Jae? You don’t sound too good.”

 

There’s more static in the background. Youngjae’s breathing is uneven too. But Daehyun waits patiently for the boy to speak. _“I was thinking about that day. That Wednesday.”_

 

A cold as ice block weight crashes into Daehyun and he falls into his couch. “Baby, don’t. Please don’t.” He please to Youngjae. Just the thought of the boy being alone and thinking of that day makes him want to pull his hair off and cry. “Just talk to me, Jae. I promise you’ll forget about in a few minutes. Just don’t think about it, please.”

 

Youngjae, however, ignores him. Another silver winged butterfly flies past Daehyun’s eyes. _“You know I had an interview that day, right?”_ His voice is muffled and Daehyun almost see Youngjae trying to block out his sobs. _“I almost missed it too. But somehow I managed to get a taxi to the agency I had applied at..”_ He chuckles at that but Daehyun can sense no humor in his tone. It’s almost bitter.

 

“Jae-” Daehyun begins but it cut off by Youngjae.

 

 _“Sometimes I wonder if things would’ve been any different if I had never gotten that job.”_  Another silver winged butterfly flies past Daehyun’s eyes. He then gets to his feet. Because something isn’t right.

 

“Where are you, Jae?” The urgency in his voice scares him. As if he’s waiting, as if he knows, something bad is going to happen. Like watching yourself catch fire. “Where are you right now?” He races out the green room. Ignores the calls for him to stop.

 

 _“If I only I hadn’t gotten the job, Dae.”_ Youngjae whimsically wonders out loud. And fear settles deeper into Daehyun’s stomach. He ducks out of the theater’s doors and races to Yongguk and Youngjae’s apartment. Never handing up.

 

“Jae! Listen to me!” He breathes into the microphone. “I’m coming to you, okay? I want you to stay right where you, baby.” Crying as he increases his pace. “Please. Please, stay where you are, baby. Please.”

 

_“I wouldn’t have gone out for drinks then. I wouldn’t have had to hail a cab at 1 in the morning.”_

 

“Youngjae!” Daehyun screams as he reaches the boy’s apartment complex. He races to the stairs, heaving but never stopping. “Youngjae, listen to me.” He begs the boy. “I love you, Jae. So, so much. I’m here now. I’m almost home.” His breath chokes a little and he sobs like a child but continues nonetheless. “Please, stay where you are. Please, please wait for me.”

 

_“Everything would be so much better if I had missed my interview, Dae.”_

 

He’s at the door now. Without knocking the door, Daehyun reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a key to the apartment. His hands shake too, and after four failed tries he manages to finally turn the key in the lock. And when he enters the apartment, what greets him, is horrifying.

 

Youngjae is standing in the gallery of their apartment. On the ledge, using his hands to hold him back from falling down. Daehyun freezes then. “D- don’t, Jae. I- I’m here now.” His lover is smiling serenely at him. Tears running down his face. He drops the phone he had held to his ears and pain crosses his features which he soon replaced with an even bigger smile.

 

_“I love you, Dae.”_

 

He lets go of the railing.

 

**vii**

 

As Daehyun exits the theater his eyes are bloodshot. He glances at his wrist watch and the time reads 1am. The same cab that he’s seen far too many time, stops in front of him.

 

Daehyun looks inside the vehicle. He bites his lips, lets a tear fall and enters.

 

He’d known all along.

 

*****

 

“Do you want me to iron your clothes for you?” Yongguk asks from the living room as he watches Youngjae hobble around the apartment looking for his socks.

 

The younger boy groans sassily and responds back to his step brother sarcastically, “sure! Because apparently you’ve transcended from being my Brother to becoming my Mom!”

 

Yongguk throws at pillow at him but Youngjae is quick enough to dodge the offending weapon. He sticks out his tongue at the man like the five year old he is and yells at his brother to, “don’t wait up for me! It’s my first day at work!”

 

With a look of adoration, Yongguk shakes his head affectionately and waves the boy off. He turns back to the news channel he’d been watching, frowning at the headline.

 

**A local actor brutally raped at the intersection of Kyungsang and Myungdong street. Rapist suspected to be a taxi driver.**

 

Yongguk clicks a picture of the driver’s driving license, which the detectives had found on the crime scene, that the channel airs as a caution for all. He makes sure to remind Youngjae to be careful when he’s heading back home at him and sends him a picture of the 56year old cabbie, telling him to be careful. Asking him to take the bus instead.

 

_In Another World:_

 

_The white dress shirt that Yongguk had bought him especially for the interview that day, is now torn and Youngjae scowls at the dark haired boy that is groping his collar. His dress black jeans have coffee spilt on them._

 

_“What the fuck, dude!?” Youngjae scream at the boy and turns around to rush to cab he’d managed to steal from the boy, but finds the road empty. He turns to boy and pushes him angrily, yelling at him indignantly. “I lost my ride because of you!”_

 

_The other boy, ravishingly handsome with sun-kissed skin, rolls his eyes and places his hands on his hips. “That was MY ride before you decided to steal it!”_

 

_Youngjae throws his  school bag, bright blue and neon green, on the ground and falls on his butt. Looking like a bratty three year old, he beats his feet at the ground and whines, “that was the only chance I had! A newbie like me could never get a chance at TS again!” He’s wearing black shoes, that have turned grey due to the incessant slamming against concrete. “It could’ve been my first acting break ever and I lost it because of You!” He points menacingly at the elder boy._

 

_The other boy, looking guilty and completely perplexed at the boy’s antics, crouches in front of him and pushes his hand out. “I’m Jung Daehyun.” Youngjae watches Daehyun eye his silver chain, that glistens with the words YYJ, before he looks back into his eyes. “I’m an actor too. Maybe I could help?”_

 

_And Youngjae’s heart stutters when takes the offered hand and replies, “I’m Yoo Youngjae.”_

* * *

_Twitter:[@CMiMiU](https://twitter.com/cmimiu) | Tumblr: [CMiMiU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474071/cmimiu.tumblr.com/)| Ko-Fi: [Buy Me A Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/cmimiu) _

**Author's Note:**

> Comment down below if you've understood the ending or if you liked the story. Please leave Kudos~~~
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr @cmimiu or on Twitter @cmimiu


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